Sex on the Beach: Meh.

An ex-boyfriend of mine was all about experimentation. Needless to say, he was and will always be one of my most favorite exes. No wait, hold on a minute. He wasn't my prince charming. Not at all. In fact, he was the biggest phaatu in the world. When it came down to choosing between his family and moi, he chose the former - duh. And honestly, I understand. But there are a bunch of details that follow this incident which in my head make him look rather stupid in hindsight. Let's save that for a day where I feel like doing some male bashing. The reason he's one I'll never forget is because he happens to be one of the few men who wasn't afraid to "take it outside". We had sex indoors all the time, but the outdoors, we believed, was a lot more fun. It's always more fun to head on over to the dark side. I'm all about it. Beaches and boats, parks and planes, they have all been tried. Of course, we had to keep an eye out for voyeurs and the cops but that never bothered us. The adrenaline rush was far greater than anything else.

When I tell my girlfriends of our outdoor rendezvous', they often gape at me with their mouths wide open. I often wonder if it's shock or sheer envy. I told a friend of mine whose man wanted to check out how hot they could be on a plane, that it's incredibly boring and overrated. She looked at me and said, "What?" before she walked away from me after hearing my personal detailed account. My Mile High membership ended faster than it started quite honestly. In a moment of sheer horniness, I found myself struggling in an airplane bathroom as I maneuvered myself around him. There was no moaning, no screaming and definitely no cumming. In the end I walked out frustrated, unhappy and grumpy. There is hardly anything sexy about sex in an airplane bathroom; trust me.

Nowadays, when I think about freaky places I'd like to get down and dirty in, it's more closer to home but still with a kinky edge. My room has a full length window with a sheer linen curtain. By night, it happens to be the sexiest place in my house. Ideas immediately infiltrate though my mind. The idea of people watching the silhouette of my man and I as we indulge in some much needed sexual discovery, is kinkier than ever. What's my point? Okay, look. All this fascination with doing it at a club, in a bathroom, the backseat of a car and so on, works well when you're 18. At 30, it's far too juvenile. Gimme my house with a ceiling to floor windows which I can be pushed against in more than one way possible. Works for me.